1.0: No shortage of stones for skipping

There's only one thing to do when life sucks:

Blow something up.

It's like this. I was pretty freakin' low last night. My faculties of expression basically fled me and I couldn't explain with all the nuance and subtlety that I intended exactly why Two aborted entries prior to the still-weak one I actually did last night attest to this. Partly, because when I complain about something on the blog, I don't want to lay the blame on anybody, particularly not anybody who might read this and take offense. So I was trying to blame myself but my only fault - and it's not a small one - is reacting too negatively to my own situation, and to the situations of others, and how others treat me, most likely without their realization. As I mentioned there, I'm sensitive, and not in the "I feel your pain" way. More like the, ah, "I feel my own pain" way. But we know that already, don't we?

So why am I so chipper, so talkative today? Damned if I know. I went to bed still with a dark cloud over my head, didn't sleep well, and woke up with it still hanging there. And over the course of the day it did dissipate, but gradually.

I was out a lot, soaking up that vitamin D, wandering and wondering. As in many of my lower points, the teachings of Buddha eventually crept into my head. Existance, you know, is suffering, and that suffering is caused by the desire (to have and control things.) And it seems odd, but this is comforting, taken as a universal truth. It rings true. I have yet to hear a religious doctrine that summarizes the human experience so succinctly and accurately. And while it seems pessimistic, there's also hope in there, which is why it got me cheered up.

So this is what I was thinking as I was zipping around on my bike without any agenda. I was supposed to go help my grandma connect her phone, but I couldn't get over there because my mom took the spare keys and r-u-n-n-o-f-t with them. And when I tried to call, I got nothing - which I assumed was because here phone hadn't been set up, but given she called alter, I guess it was something else (obviously she's smart enough not to have already disconnected her previous phone.)

So I was biking and as is not uncommon, I found myself down by the lake. It being Canada Day, there was of course a sizeable crowd there, and I'm usually not fond of that, but it was an interesting mix of people - and by that I mean, not entirely old people, but also young ladies. And as I sat in the vicinity of some very attractive chicks while they sunbathed in bikinis on the grass, they talked in French (possibly about me, for all I know, "Look at that silly man trying not to stare at our gorgeous bodies, he is not succeeding at all!") things began to seem all right. And while commenting on their ridiculous hotness seems shallow... where do you think you are? It's not all awesome metaphors and clever wordplay. At the end of the day, I do love a good eyeful of boob.

So I sat by the lake a while and skipped stones, since the beach there is made of rocks rather than the more traditional sand. And things started to feel okay. And maybe my life does suck and maybe I'll wake up tomorrow and be totally bummed out again. Lord knows things haven't changed enough to keep that from happening. But all the same I know things can work out fine these days.

So that brings us to explosions. It wasn't much of an evening. I did call Robyn and she was spending the day with family (understandishable) so I hung out with the bros. At one point I went over to the corner store and decided the affirmative way to chase my blues away was to blow something up. Sitting right there was the remaining selection of fireworks for Canada Day. The fact that we live in a country where one can walk into a corner store and purchase explosives is worth celebrating in and of itself.

I've never set off fireworks myself, and decided to change this. So the three of us went out to the WOSS football field with four crackling rockets and a BBQ lighter. The lighter was inconsistent and would take a few tries to catch, but once it did... damn was it a sight to see that flare rise up into the night sky and burst. It was the right kind, flashy and noisy, not one or the other. It was fun.

But like I said; with things not really being different, maybe I'll go back to being down tomorrow. I feel a little guilty for being so obsessed with my own slight depression, for calling attention to it, but as you can imagine it's kind of my main thought at the moment. If you see me in public, I'll probably be pretty upbeat (glad to be out of the house.) If you ask what's up with this, I'll probably level with you, and because it came up at all, I'll probably get cheered up. I just have a problem with my current station in life and how isolated I am from so many of the people I care about, (and I assume care about me. Part of the problem is that not hearing from them causes that assumption to reverse.)

I'd sum it up with this anecdote from the first version of yesterday's post:

Several years ago, in Grade 12 (there's a sentence that suddenly sounds odd,) I was really bummed out one day. I was having some self-inflicted teen angst bullshit that frankly wasn't too different from what's going on right now. I was taking it really badly and was morose all day, including through a session of Improv team. Well the next day I was hanging around after school and who should come to me but Alyssa, who had noticed my mood being out of sorts. By this time, we had only been friends a few months, but those were the Improv days and we worked together a lot and got to know each other well. And she cared enough to bring me a "Cheer Up Scott" cupcake. She was always with the baked goods. It was a vegan cupcake, but the message was beautiful. And I felt like suddenly how I felt mattered to other people.

Flash forward just over a year and Alyssa is back in Oakville. She'd given up a while earlier on Ryerson and went into co-habitation with her then-boyfriend. Apparently, in early February, they split up thus necessitating her move back, and who should she call but me? Her life in upheaval at the time, I imagine she was distraught and I hoped, by meeting her for coffee and conversation - at that point out first in several months (although we've gone much longer without talking since,) - I could do the same as she'd done me earlier, cheering her up and showing her that her feelings matter. Reassurance, I suppose. A friendly voice. It was a warm moment. The thought went on to ruminate that the lack of that is what's troubling me.

But I'm actually still in a good mood today, so I'll not end this post with a sigh of grief. Instead, a few thoughts that have randomly occurred to me over the course of the last few days.

They are going to rebuild Yankee Stadium in the near future. This is a great idea, and I'll tell you why. Yankee Stadium is a classic American ballpark, a New York Landmark, a great piece of architecture and even a great establishing shot in dozens of episodes of Seinfeld. It's been the site of many glorious victories for the Yankees, probably innumerable father-son memories, and other great moments. But when I went there in 2005, there was a hitch. We were travelling without the bus that day so most of us had our backpacks on us. This being New York City in the post-9/11 world, they didn't permit luggage into the stadium. We shrugged it off and obeyed, but what they had us do was pretty ludicrous. While half the students (mostly the girls and younger guys) were taking their seats, Rosser and the senior guys (such as myself) and some others had to go down the block and deposit all the backpacks in a bowling alley. Now, it's one thing that they don't allow baggage in Yankee Stadium. That's their right. But they don't even have the facilities to properly enforce that rule, and so they have to rely on a bowling alley around the corner.

So I hope the new Yankee Stadium has a baggage check on the premises. I know that, if there's a bomb in the bag, the place would possibly still be in danger, (there are ways around this) but at least you wouldn't have to go put it in a bowling alley down the street.

The other thing was, when I was in HMV recently, I was looking at belt buckles. I don't wear the kind of belts that use custom buckles, but I was wondering about options if I ever did. There was evening a nice-looking Aerosmith buckle, which I would've gotten. Then I realized that I'm really not comfortable with people examining my crotch to determine what kind of music I'm into. As much as I love Aerosmith (and that is a LOT) I don't need their logo sitting right above my groin.

And that's where the post ends. Keep on rockin'
-Scotto